Five-minute fiction - 23:19-23:24
Grim waited.
He hated waiting, it reminded of being back in school. One would think that going to a school for assassins, rather the College of Assassination and the Arts would have made him more patient. It didn’t, it just made him nervous.
The small desk clock tick-tocked absently in the corner and Grim felt his eyes drawn to it. He tried to remember a formula from his school days, but could only wrestle thoughts about money and time to the surface, and couldn’t connect them as the clock was proving to be somewhat of distraction. The hands, two larger, one short, the other long, and the other thin and wraithlike were moving backward, well backward in regard to the direction they were traveling was not clockwise, but counter clockwise.
Grim’s mouth dropped open.
He scanned the face of the clock, suspecting some trick, but the numbers were correct, they were legible from where he sat.
Grim waited.
He hated waiting, it reminded of being back in school. One would think that going to a school for assassins, rather the College of Assassination and the Arts would have made him more patient. It didn’t, it just made him nervous.
The small desk clock tick-tocked absently in the corner and Grim felt his eyes drawn to it. He tried to remember a formula from his school days, but could only wrestle thoughts about money and time to the surface, and couldn’t connect them as the clock was proving to be somewhat of distraction. The hands, two larger, one short, the other long, and the other thin and wraithlike were moving backward, well backward in regard to the direction they were traveling was not clockwise, but counter clockwise.
Grim’s mouth dropped open.
He scanned the face of the clock, suspecting some trick, but the numbers were correct, they were legible from where he sat.
